Sweet Solitaire Secrets
by Lovebites and Popcorn
Summary: And in the end, they didn't even touch the six bottles of vodka. AkuRoku.


**Sweet Solitaire Secrets**

_And in the end, they didn't even touch the six bottles of vodka. __**AkuRoku.**_

_**Author's note: **__Eh. Yeah, I know this ain't an update of__** Your Daily Caffeine Fix**__. But this is just a little something to celebrate the end of my finals. Semester breaks are wonderful._

_Rated for some language, inevitable boylove and semi-fluffiness. _

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Roxas had found a way to hide the alcohol from his parents. He'd keep the bottles in a large nondescript cardboard box under his bed among the dust-covered clutter of old school textbooks, empty food wrappers, long-forgotten Struggle equipment and garishly lurid magazines that he hardly ever touched anymore. His parents would never think of looking under there, or so he deduced. Truth be told, he didn't think his parents had even once stepped into his room ever since he turned the ripe old age of sixteen. And that was almost two years ago. His father was never home, usually chalking up his absence to business trips and such. And his mother, unemployed as she was, somehow found no time to entertain her only son. The only occasion in which Roxas' mother would say something that comprised of more than a couple of words stringed together would be when she wanted him to wash the dishes or maybe do his homework. Other than that, their relationship was a dying one.

'Family time' was clearly non-existent. With dad gone for most of his life and mom uncaring as to whether her son jumped off a cliff, really, there was no such thing as 'family time' in this household. So Roxas spent most of his days in the company of his best friend. And _everyone_ in the neighbourhood knew who Roxas' best friend was. Of course they did. That wasn't to say his best friend was the most ideal nor decent person to hang around. Sometimes, the blond would wonder to himself, exactly why _did_ he keep Axel a friend anyway? The older teen was a dropout, a constant smoker, a frequent drinker, an occasional druggie, and he definitely had no qualms in treating Roxas in a way that suggested that he didn't think the boy was just 'friend material'. Which sort of freaked the poor blond out a little when he first realised this. But hey, Axel was still a friend. And he wasn't going to ditch him just because the redhead had finally single-handedly figured out which gender he preferred. He wasn't going to ditch him because he constantly got drunk or high.

It really kinda' didn't matter. Because really, Roxas, much to his own fascination (and semi-mortification), was starting to become conscious of the way he would involuntarily react to the way his friend touched him sometimes. On the arm, the neck, the shoulder. Long, pale, creeping fingers brushing lightly over his skin. And Roxas. Roxas would respond, occasionally returning the gesture and caressing the redhead's hand without even looking at him and at what he was doing.

It took Roxas more than a little while to realise that he was developing a sort of affection for the redhead. Which worked fine. It wasn't like Axel would be unhappy if he found out. And Roxas wondered to himself for a moment if maybe the redhead had somehow planned this all out from the beginning; maybe his friend had known beforehand that Roxas would finally succumb to his charm. Or something like that. After all, they'd been best friends for a very long time. He couldn't remember a time when Axel hadn't been there to help him out through a difficult period or when he'd been caught in a tight spot.

Through thick and thin, and all that jazz. Bros before… ah, well. You get the picture.

The blond plopped himself down on the carpeted floor of his well-lit bedroom and yanked the cardboard box out from under his bed, opening it swiftly. Six brand new, yet to be opened, translucent bottles of vodka gleamed under the glaring lights overhead, all arranged neatly in two rows in the box. The boy then glanced up at his open window, positioned just by his bed. The white see-through curtains were half-drawn and fluttering inwards lazily. He felt the light breeze play over his face. Nothing but a black abyss could be seen beyond the white-walled rectangle that housed the hole of his bedroom window. Then, his eyes snapped to his bedside clock. The green, luminous numbers looked back at him. 9:50PM. Dinner had come and gone with no sign of food, which wasn't unusual. His mom was probably asleep in front of the tiny television in her own room, and his dad had alleged that he'd be away for the week. And that was fine for the boy. Dinner wasn't a necessity. He could just rummage through the pantry if he craved for marshmallows or a Mars Bar.

9:51PM.

Roxas fidgeted restlessly with the lid of the cardboard box, his breathing becoming uneven. Dinner was the last thing on his mind. His weary sapphire-tinted eyes started to wander around his room, darting first from his revolving fish lamp, which threw varying mellow shades of blue around his room walls, to the door, to the black-white poster of an anonymous rock band hanging on his wall, and finally back to his clock. A frown began to spread over his face and he tapped a finger against the box impatiently, almost irately. 9:52PM.

Then, a series of noises, muffled at first, floated in from his open window. At that, Roxas stood and scrambled onto his bed, leaning against the edge of the window and peering out into the darkness beyond. The scowl was still noticeably fixed on his face. Something moved in the gloom below and a pale hand grabbed onto the ledge.

"You're late," Roxas hissed, a little harsher than he intended. But at least it hid the relief in his unsteady voice.

"Got held up," Axel apologised, tone light and somewhat nonchalant, and the redhead hoisted himself over the window ledge, landing soundly on Roxas' bed, bouncing lightly for a few seconds. His blood red hair sprang up and swayed around his ears. He looked at Roxas with a small grin. "What? Missed me?"

Roxas didn't roll his eyes like he would have under normal circumstances. "You were supposed to be here by _nine-thirty_," the boy snapped. "I was starting to think that maybe… maybe something happened to you!"

Axel looked a little surprised at that. Then, his face lit up, perfect black-rimmed emerald eyes suddenly aglow with delight. "Aw, Roxy! You were worried about little old me? That's… _wow_. That's so sweet of you!"

Roxas looked half-incredulous for a split second, mouth half-agape. Then, something like anger flitted around in his smouldering eyes. They flashed rather dangerously. "Ax," he began, a fist clenched by his side as he slid off his bed to stand in front of his friend, "you _know_ that if something _did_ happen, I –"

Axel glanced around the room and pretended not to register what his friend was saying. The blond's words seemed to be falling on deaf ears. He looked to the floor. "Hey! Vodka!" the redhead exclaimed gleefully, deliberately cutting off the boy in mid-speech. He reached down and claimed a bottle. "Silly Roxas, you didn't tell me you had your own personal stash of alcohol! I knew you had porn. But dude, this stuff's priceless!" Axel seemed visibly thrilled. "Finally growing up, aren't you?"

Roxas made a strangled noise of exasperation and snatched the vodka bottle out of the impertinent redhead's fingers, leaning towards him threateningly and jabbing the older teenager painfully in the chest with the tip of the glass bottle. "_Listen_. I'm not done with you, you asshole! You _don't_ just rock up to my place twenty fucking minutes _late_ and start drinking _my_ stuff!" he snarled. "You… you know that – that I'd…" Roxas' voice went down an octave, "I'd _never_ forgive myself if something happened to you on the way here at this hour. Especially after what happened last time –"

"Roxas, Roxas." Axel waved a flippant hand around in the air. "I already told you before. What happened last time wasn't your –"

"It _was_ my fault and you know it!" Roxas growled.

"Shush. _No_, listen. Shhh, come sit down Roxy." Axel patted the empty space on the bed next to him, the spot that Roxas had vacated moments before to stand and assault him with the bottle.

"My fault," Roxas repeated stubbornly. "It was late. Too late. I shouldn't have asked you to come over that night."

"God, Roxas. Just sit down next to me already!"

Roxas dropped his arm limply, his grip on the vodka bottle slackening a little. He exhaled disconsolately, placed the alcohol back in the box, and sat next to Axel on the bed.

"Look," the older boy said in a clear voice, turning to face the blond, expression serious for the first time. "What happened on my way here the last time had nothing to do with you. _Nothing_. Take it as a good thing that I wasn't run through with a knife or anything bad like that, okay? No permanent damage, yeah? Now, please, let the damn incident go."

"_Or anything bad_? But you were –"

"I said _drop it_. What do I need to do to shut you up about it? Kiss you?"

Roxas glared sullenly at the floor, face a little flushed. "I… I was just worried. Twenty minutes, Axel. Twenty! All sorts of crazy things were going through my head," the boy muttered, voice hushed.

"I'm sorry. Really, I am. I was held up at home."

A small silence enveloped them both.

"Um," Axel coughed delicately. "Are we gonna' drink some of that or what?" he asked, pointing at the box that was still sitting innocently on the ground.

Roxas sighed. "I didn't call you over just so we could get ourselves drunk, you know."

Axel looked confused at that. "Er… no?"

Roxas shook his head. "No."

"Then why _did _you call me over?"

"Ax, we need to… I need to talk to you."

"You _do_ know why they invented the phone, right?"

Roxas shot his friend a dirty look, then sighed. "I know I could've talked to you over the phone. But, I think this is kinda' important."

Axel blinked. "Oh. _Ohhhh_. One of _those_ talks, huh? Those Undercover Secret Agent James Bond 007 talks?" Axel turned his whole body so he was facing the younger boy and giving him his full attention. They weren't very far apart. He gazed into Roxas' blue eyes with a knowing grin. "Okay, hotshot. Talk away."

Roxas raised an eyebrow and squirmed uncomfortably at the lack of distance between them. "I think you just made my job about ten times harder," the boy muttered.

"Hmmmmm?" Axel hummed innocently.

"Nothing. Nevermind. Okay, here goes." Roxas took a shallow breath. "Axel, you've been a good friend. Wait, no, you've been the bestest best friend anyone could ever wish for. Seriously. And I know that you're… well, you're _you_. Like, I know you're – you're gay, and not straight, and everything. So I understand how you feel, about, uh, me. But… you're my friend and it doesn't matter to me and I really don't care that you're… you're… and – and it really _doesn't_ _matter_," Roxas vaguely realised he was babbling. He stopped himself and looked away. "Er, I guess what I'm trying to say is – is I think you and I kinda'… should… uh, y'know, _FUCK!_ WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU _DOING_, AXEL?" Roxas suddenly squeaked in a panicky voice that was unnecessarily high-pitched and very much less-than-manly. Of course it could've been due to the fact that he suddenly found himself being manhandled by the redhead.

"What's it look like?" Axel breathed into Roxas' ear, leaning forwards and trailing fingers down the blond's chest and over his thighs. His body was pressed up against Roxas'. "You loooove meeeee," he crooned softly, and then planted a chaste kiss on the boy's cheek. "Roxy's in loooove with meeee."

Roxas turned several shades of pink all at once. Quite a feat.

"You bastard! You knew?!" the boy exploded, anger overriding his flusteredness for a few moments.

"That you were starting to feel the same way?" Axel questioned rhetorically, pinning Roxas to the bed so that the boy was now glaring up at him, eyes like flint. "Uh-huh. You were being pretty obvious about it, Roxy."

"Since _when_?!"

"Since you stopped trying to evade me whenever I got all touchy-feely on you? I figured you must've liked it."

Roxas groaned.

"And let's face it Rox, you're not trying to get away from me now, are you?" The older boy slid a hand under Roxas' white two-sizes-too-big shirt and ghosted cool, spider-like fingers across his skin.

"You've got me pinned down!" Roxas gasped breathlessly in weak defence, very desperately trying not to release a moan of pleasure when he felt Axel's hand brush over one of his nipples. His heart rate doubled and he was starting to feel very warm.

"And?" Axel murmured with a smirk, lowering himself so that their faces were only inches apart. "I don't see you struggling," he whispered with a purr.

"Well, uh, well…" the boy underneath him spluttered for a few seconds, then stopped when he realised that arguing with Axel was just stupid. So he rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, fuck it." And he pulled Axel down on top of him and kissed him on the mouth.

And the kiss was long and drawn-out. Hot, saliva-drenched tongues collided against each other, clashed for dominance, muffled soft low moans from both sides. Roxas had brought his arms up to circle around Axel's neck, his fingers grasped at long crimson spiky hair and he deepened the kiss, sucking and nibbling at the redhead's bottom lip, now raw and swollen. Axel was pressing his roaming fingers into Roxas' soft skin under his shirt and feeling his way around the boy's naked body.

And it was nothing like the blond had ever experienced before. It was, in one word, _perfect_; with Axel on top of him and his arms draped around the older boy's neck and their lips sealed together in a searing kiss.

Perfect.

When they finally broke apart, panting heavily, the both of them just looked into each other's eyes. Sparkling green met hazy blue, hazy blue met sparkling green. Something like an unspoken understanding passed between them in those few moments, and Axel brought a hand to Roxas' cheek, stroking gently.

Roxas smiled. "So, are we still best friends?" he asked quietly. "Or…?"

Axel shrugged. "I s'pose so. Unless you prefer the term_ boyfriends_. And I could live with that."

"I think I'll stick to best friends for now, thanks."

"Suit yourself, Roxy baby."

"Don't call me that," Roxas pouted.

Axel kissed the boy on the nose. "Oh but Roxy, it sounds so damn good when I do, doesn't it? Especially with my low, sexy, _husky_ voice."

"Egotistical prick."

The redhead smirked. "Admit it, you love it."

Roxas grinned and remained silent, opting to gaze up into his best friend's eyes instead.

"So… What now?" Axel asked softly, nuzzling his face against Roxas' shoulder.

Roxas thought for a moment before replying.

"We could drink some vodka. Or… you could keep touching me. Y'know, in _other_ places."

Axel smirked and dragged his warm tongue along Roxas' bare neck. "Rox, do you even have to ask?"

_**End.**_

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_**Author's note:**__ Axel and Roxas in a bed. Yum. ;)_

_Oh, and also, reviews would be a treat! :) I promise I'll post the next chapter of YDCF soon!_


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